America's Best
by intergalacticbooty
Summary: Jack Swagger is struggling to deal with the fact his body might be aging and as such, needs glasses. Cesaro is there to help him along way as a friend and maybe more. Cross-posted on the kinkmeme. Contains self esteem issues and glasses kink. Note: America's Best is a US glasses provider. Reviews welcome and encouraged. And yes, Swagger does actually wear glasses now.
1. Chapter 1

Sure, they weren't a tag team anymore, but that didn't mean you couldn't spare anymore. Sure, Cesaro was still rehabbing a little bit, buying time before he returned, but he still wanted to spar.

Which is why the Swiss man was flailing about in the Performance Center with his former tag partner, Jack Swagger. It was rather fun, stepping back into the ring together, forgetting their differences and blowing off steam. A small crowd of NXT talent and those even farther back in developmental had gathered, but they paid no mind.

If Cesaro was being honest with himself, however, he would have loved participating in anything with Jack because ever since they had rekindled their friendship, his feelings had become more than platonic. Without Zeb breathing down their necks, Antonio got to see more of Jack that was truly Jack. And he loved it. Loved the way Jack, who normally spoke slow and quiet in the presence of Zeb, grew more animated with his lisp more pronounced as something exciting or cool happened. Or the way Jack would always have a banana at every meal, let it be a ham sandwich or spaghetti or sushi. Or the fact that he'd always buy extra and shove the food off to Cesaro. Because food meant friendship, meant love and affection in Jack's language. He loved that Jack would flinch at the cheesiest of horror movies just as hard as he'd laughed at B minus comedy flicks.

Sure, Cesaro's smitten, but he's a professional and doesn't push Jack. Doesn't even know if the younger male is into men and decides that if friendship is all he can get, then he'll cherish every second of it. Which is why Antonio is rushing to Jack's aid, in an instant, cursing his reflexes for not being fast enough. Because at one moment the blonde is stepping out of the ring to climb down the steel steps, but in the next moment he's fallen face first onto the ground, having busted his nose open.

"What happened out there, Hoss?" Antonio's voice laced with concern as the trainer ices Jack's nose, informing him he's lucky he didn't break his nose.

Jack hesitated, a bizarre and almost guilty expression crossing his droopy blue eyes before he shakes his head. Cesaro had a silver tongue, however, and Jack was painfully and explicitly honest without a deceptive bone in his body. "I thought the step was, like…closer."

Well now Antonio is confused because Jack didn't have a habit of hallucinating, but he begins replaying back some of their sparring. He wasn't rusty, but something certainly was off with Jack. Overshooting or undershooting grapples, grabbing at an ankle that wasn't quite close enough. "Jack…?"

"Yeah?"

"When was the last time you had your eyes checked?"

The American shifts uncomfortably then, sliding the ice from his swollen nose and shooting Cesaro a rather pathetic look. "Er…5…maybe 8 years? Don't thee why that matters, Toni…what are you doing?"

Cesaro has his own phone out then, nimble fingers dialing quickly before the dial tone. "Making you an appointment for America's Best."


	2. Chapter 2

Jack squirmed uncomfortably, slouching over the side of the too small chair. Cesaro had dragged him into this and he could never find himself easily saying no to the older male. That stupid smile of his, that concerned gaze he gave and he stared at the black eye Jack had gotten from nearly crushing his nose.

Said older man was sat next to Jack, thumbing through some magazine as he sat upright, whistling to himself. Yeah, sure, he would be whistling…not like he had to sit through an awkward ass appointment, having to admit to himself he was getting old.

It was probably easier for Cesaro, Jack thought grumbly, shifting to cross his arms over his broad chest. The older male was only getting better with age, soft laugh lines, and he rocked the balding look like no one else. His body was in tiptop shape, too, not losing an ounce of muscle despite being out of the ring for months now.

And then there was Jack. Jack who just turned 34, was getting soft and grimacing when he yanked off all his clothes, the scale reflecting a cruel '302 lbs' back at him. More lines appeared across his forehead each morning it seemed, his skin feeling rougher, and apparently now he's going fucking blind. Thank God his hair wasn't thinning, still taking the numerous haircuts and bleaching like a champ, but his squishy and childlike cheeks and inability to grow more than two chest hairs pissed him off. Sure, give me all the crappy youthful things that no guy appreciates, but make sure his eyes go shot. Yay genetics. Lost in his bitterness and thoughts, Jack didn't notice his name being called until Cesaro nudges him.

"Want me to go back with you?" It's sincere and polite, as if Antonio is ever anything else, but Jack scuffs at him, pouting out his thick bottom lip before shaking his head.

"I'm not fuckin' 12, dude." The other man shrugged his shoulders defensively, but continues thumbing through his magazine, trying his hardest to not look hurt.

As Jack disappeared from the waiting room to have his eyes examined and to pick out a pair of frames, Antonio lets out a defeated sigh. He really wished the younger man would be more concerned for himself. It was for his own good, because he wants to nip this in the bud. The thought of Jack falling through a ladder wrong, overshooting a fall and hitting his head on something metal, god…it makes the Swiss man's skin crawl.

The following hour dragged on slightly, Antonio abandoning the magazine to fiddle with a neat little app Sami Zayn had shown him on his phone when Jack remerged, wide shoulders hunched over and brow pulled down tight.

Antonio said nothing to him, not wanting to overstep his boundaries, but the tension has built up too much in the car. After the incident a week ago, Cesaro refused to let the younger male drive when they're out together. He's positive that's pissed Jack off even more.

"I have…I can't pronounce it right." Jack said after a moment, hands a little shaky as he motions with his hands in front of his squinted eyes.

"Astigmatism." Cesaro supplied helpfully, his accent making the word a little difficult on his own tongue.

"…depth perception issue, yeah, and...I…I'm near sighted in one eye…far sighted in the other." It's said very clinically, but the Swiss man knows Jack too well. He knows there is nerves there, almost pain and it drives the older male mad because his friend shouldn't be hurting.

"It is alright, Jackie." That nickname was only used for respite from physical and verbal lashings from Zeb, but Cesaro can hear that tone…can know something is bothering the younger male deeply. "A lot of wrestlers need glasses. Seth does. Sasha, too." He tried his damnedest to sound reassuring, a cheerful tone overcoming his accent. "Heck, even I had to wear glasses for a little while."

"It's not the SAME!" Jack suddenly shouted and Cesaro stopped abruptly then, pulling over to the side of a slightly obscured road, the sun setting on the warm Florida day. "It's not…it's not the same…" He says quietly. "Seth and Sasha and you ain't getting fat, you're not…your careers aren't ending, you don't…you guys aren't aging like me, goddammit." He started to sob then and Cesaro's moving before his mind can even process the blond's words, wrapping his arms around that massive, quivering form as tears begin to fall.

"No, no, Jackie…don't say those things about yourself, please…" It was a soft coo, a plea because Jack shouldn't be feeling this way.

"Y-You guyth aren't uselethth like me…" Jack was blubbering then, completely disregarding how unmanly and even childish this might come off as. "…it isn't one more thing that fuckth you up. It isn't one more thing against you." Cesaro let him get it all out, letting the younger male babble. "It'th not one more strike because you were stupid and got high. It'th not one more thing for people to sneer at because you thpit when you talk…it'th not one more thing wrong with you." After his tirade, the words stop falling and now it's just soft sniffles and a few hiccupping breathes filling the car.

Cesaro cupped the back of Jack's neck, rubbing the freckled flesh there in hopes of helping him steady his breathing. "Look at me, Jack." The younger male shook his head and Antonio has lost all patience, not willing to give in this time, needing to push him as he tilts his strong jaw, forcing those wet blues to face his loving browns. He didn't think about how low and dark Jack's eyelashes looked from his crying or how beautiful his soft cheeks were in the fading sunlight. "You aren't useless. You are so dedicated and so talented."

"S-Stop…"

"No. You need to hear this." It's authoritative, Cesaro leaving no room for him to retort. "You are so strong. Even stronger than me. And so kind. You aren't useless and have so much to offer." He sighed then, his own breath growing shaky as he fights the urge to confess more than what he's willing to. Because he couldn't risk their friendship for his own selfish feelings. What he wouldn't give to kiss the tears out of delicate eyelids, to whisper kisses against thick thighs. But for now, all he can do is reassure his friend. "It doesn't matter if the fans don't see it, if WWE doesn't see it, you and I know it. Alright?"

Jack hesitated, Cesaro let go of his jaw and he nodded slowly.

"Good. Now no more of this nonsense about you being useless or old…none of that." He motioned with his hand, snapping his seatbelt back on before patting Jack's side gently. "I think there's a Dairy Queen around here…how about we go for ice cream?"

Jack snorted at that, wondering if Cesaro realized how much 'dadding' he was doing at the moment but the blond shoots him a small smile. "Uh, sure…"


	3. Chapter 3

The glasses came in a few days later, Jack having paid for an express on his order because he'd be in the Battle Royale at Mania and Axxess the days leading up to it. Cesaro didn't get to see him after their night full of soft, sensitive words and sweet, cold desserts. But the Swiss man hopes he helped a little, made the younger male feel a little better because really, after all of Jack's hard work and dedication he needed to go easier on himself.

And really, Cesaro couldn't see how he could feel bad about how he was aging. Sure, the younger male was a little thicker than he used to be, but it was to be expected with age and it wasn't like it impeded him in the ring. But on a deeper, more intimate level Antonio thought the extra weight was quite appealing. Supple, firm muscle underneath a thin layer of softness that made the Swiss man drool at inappropriate times. What he wouldn't give to squeeze and to touch and to mark that soft, giving skin. Of course he didn't tell Jack that, though. Just like he didn't tell Jack the sight of him in glasses would surely make the older male hard in a heartbeat.

Regardless of his dangerously growing lustful thoughts, Cesaro kept texting the younger male throughout their different commutes of the next week with Axxess approaching them quickly. They had not-so-subtly booked a hotel room together, cutting their costs and knowing neither would be stuck rooming with an unfamiliar talent.

Axxess was a busy tizzy of excitement as it was every year. Cesaro was dragged here and there, meeting fan after fan, smiling for photos and signing so much that he thought his hand and mouth would melt right off of his being. But Cesaro continued without complaint, because he loved his job and he loved to give back to fans. Even so, there was a lot of relief rippling through him as he was informed his meet and greet was done for the day.

He snuck off then, looking into numerous rooms until he found the one labeled for Jack's meet and greet line. It was modest, but he had a fierce following of dedicated fans lining up. 'This is exactly what Jack needs', the older male thought with a half-smile gracing his lips as he joined the very end of the line, '...people who appreciate him'.

The line took more than half an hour to dwindle down, Jack staying twenty minutes past his signing period because he would be damned if he was going to let any man, woman, or child that dragged their asses here and spent hordes of money to attend the event be denied what they came for. Well, that, and…it felt good to have someone care about you. As he waved goodbye to the last boy in line, the hyperactive child jumping up and down excitedly as he clutched the newly signed figure to his chest, hearing him babble to his dad about how tall Jack was in person.

"S-Sorry…I didn't bring anything to have signed." The voice was nervous and familiar, Jack having been entranced by his phone for a moment to check his twitter, grinning goofily at all the pictures and stories fans were sharing. He tilted his head back, smile growing larger as he met the Swiss man's gaze.

But something was, off. Cesaro looked confused almost, or bothered, but Jack decided he would ask the older male about it earlier. He assumed he was exhausted, knowing the older male's line had to be twice as long as is. "How ya doin, Toni?"

'Great. Fantastic, considering those thick, black glasses frame your freckled nose perfectly, and your eyelashes somehow look even longer, and if your eyes got anymore blue I'd probably drown in them and I'm pretty sure your tears would taste like sea salt,' goes completely unsaid by the older male, clearing his throat as he sits next to him, lounging back. Of course Jack had to wear a tight blue shirt that made his eyes pop even more, that hugged his soft stomach so sweetly. "I'm alright…just a lot going on. Like it is every year, but you never get really used to it."

"No, ya don't." Jack was all soft smiles, shifting in his chair then as security closed the door to his signing room, leaving the two men alone. "But, I, uh…wanted to thank you, y'know…" He rubbed the back of his neck then, Cesaro's breath hitching as a long finger creeps up, the American pushing his glasses back into place. "…for being such an awethome dude."

Antonio laughed then, deep and genuine from his belly as he laid a friendly hand on Jack's shoulder. "Well, you deserve to be surrounded by awesome dudes. Because you are an awesome friend."

"Oh yeah?" It's said in a manner strange to Cesaro's ear, Jack's voice taking on a tone that's entirely unfamiliar to him. And suddenly plush pink lips and pale skin with tan freckles and thick-framed glasses were so close to him and Jack pops the spearmint gum he's been chewing since he quit smoking years ago.

"Yes, Jack…I consider you an awesome friend." Because what else could Cesaro say? Not like he could blurt out 'I want to ravage each and every inch of you. I want to make you scream my name until you come. And then make you come again. You would look so good on my tongue, so good on my cock.'

"You're not so bad yourself." It's followed by a small wink as the younger male shifts back, jumping a little when security opens the door again, informing them they have to leave because they're repurposing the room for Paige's photoshoot.

"Want to grab a bite to eat?" Cesaro asked then, knowing it was late in the evening and both their schedules were free.

Jack nodded, slinging a messenger bag over his head and readjusting the baseball cap, flipping it forwards. It casted a shadow Antonio could only describe as elegant over Jack's own delicate features. "My treat?"

"You sure?" The Swiss man chuckled his way out of the back entrance of the signing room, assuming the hordes of fans would be of a slightly lesser volume. "You know I can pound it a lot."

"Hell yeah, I'm sure…I'd probably be walking into poles and tripping over the ring ropes if it weren't for you." It's said rather bashfully, Jack's cheeks turning a slight shade of pink that contrasts with the dark frames well.

"Alright, but I want steak."

"You readin' my mind again, Toni?"


	4. Chapter 4

Plates empty and bellies full, Jack slouched back against the booth of the local Dallas grill joint they had decided on. It was late, the place only being open at 11 o'clock at night due to the massive influx of clientele thanks to Wrestlemania.

The two had been recognized by a couple fans, Jack offering to take photos with them and give autographs before Cesaro good get a peep out. When the Swiss man asked him why he was so eager to appease them, even if it was inappropriate, Jack simply shrugged.

"I just know how much it might mean to them, y'know? I don't wanna disappoint them." His sweet Jack.

Wait, 'his'? Cesaro was losing it, needed to ground himself, but found it difficult throughout their meal. The way Jack's cheeks puffed up when he chewed or drank anything, the way he licked at his bottom lip idly, the soft circles he rubbed on his own stomach when he was full. And God, the way he kept pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose…it was just all too much.

"Dessert or nah?" Jack asked after a moment, sipping at surprisingly girly drink in the form of an appletini. Antonio wasn't opposed to polishing of a meal with a slice of cheesecake or some chocolate concoction, but the only thing he could think about was getting back to their hotel room and taking a subzero temperature shower.

Well, that solved that and he shook his head, before replying verbally. "I think I'm good, Hoss. You?"

"Eh, I got some chocolate back at the hotel if the mood strikes." And with that he leaves a hefty tip at the table, paying for their meal on the way out despite Antonio insisting he actually cover some of the bill.

The ride back was peaceful silence, Cesaro opting not to have any alcohol and serving as DD, despite Jack not even being buzzed from a couple drinks that were more sugar than anything else. "Thanks for treating me out, Jack."

"The least I could do, man…" The reply was quiet from Jack's scrunched up position. Cesaro would never be ceased by how such a tall and well-built man was able to make himself appear absolutely tiny. "…what with you puttin' up with me so often."

"I do not 'put up with you'." Its firm, because Antonio doesn't know where all this low self-esteem is coming from, but he needs to lessen it, to make his friend feel appreciated and loved. "I like being around you, Jack."

The American huffed at that, but didn't respond as he rolled the window down, hanging his head out of the window, embracing the deep, late night Dallas heat. "Night'th like this…feel like there's somethin' in the air, y'know? Heavy…" It was a deep husk, some of the Oklahoman twang lacing his words and Cesaro's not quite sure what the young male means so he falls silent.

"It is rather warm."

"Yeah, that's it." Jack decided to agree, not sure why he was idly talking about the fact that he was, for lack of better terminology, a little hot and bothered. For once he was grateful that his vague English caused confusion for the older male. Because what dude tells his male best friend that he's horny? You just don't do that, but with the looks Cesaro had been giving him lately…it was more than just his weird, overly friendly European customs. Or was it? Or maybe Jack had just been wrong and reading the other male in a much more perverse and inaccurate light. And well didn't that make him feel all kinds of shitty.

The rest of the ride back is still silent, but there's an uneasiness there that neither man touches, completely silent as they ascend the stairs to the fourth floor of their hotel room. Jack insisted on it, feeling more than a little self-conscious over how much he ate. The older male had entertained him, trotting up the winding staircase no more than a foot away.

Jack flopped down on the bed face first, sighing into it before he stretched out his arms, a full body yawn shivering him to the core.

"Sounds about right, heh…" Antonio chuckled, toeing his shoes off as he shut the door behind him. Before the older male can say anything else, his text tone fills the hotel room. "…hmm."

"Whoisit?" Slurred from exhaustion.

"Sami…wants to go out for drinks…" Cesaro sat down on the bed, beginning to text away that he was in for the night.

"You should go, man…" Jack leans up, glasses slightly crooked before he tilted them back, turning his body towards the older male. "…hang out with some of your friendth or something…" Said rather quietly.

"I am hanging out with a friend." There is a bit of a bite there, almost annoyance and it makes the younger male mentally flinching before he gets angry himself. Because what the fuck, Toni? It was childish and stupid, but he whips a pillow that Cesaro barely managed to dodge. Fast fucker. "What the hell was that for?"

"You don't have to pity me tho fucking hard, y'know." He huffed then standing up with every intention of locking himself in the bathroom like a goddamn teenager, hoping those big, brown, pitying eyes would be gone when he was done.

"Why in the world do you think I'm pitying you?" Antonio stomped after him grabbing rather violently at his wrist, forcing him to meet his burning stare.

"Becauthe, this…the way you're talking to me, been lookin' at me after I told you all that, I…" He pulled his hand away, words dying in his throat, because who gave a fuck? Cesaro would just leave again once Jack got too emotional, got too possessive. He was deadweight before, wasn't he? He'd just be even heavier deadweight now. "Stop feeling sorry for me."

"I don't feel sorry for you!" It was a loud boom, Cesaro's voice heavy and thick and Jack doesn't register that the older male have moved until he feels himself pinned against the bathroom door, feet on his tip toes as Toni pushes against him with a strong grip.

"Then why? Why the FUCK are you acting like this towards me?" Just as loud of a boom, voice shaking in the end.

Quiet, so very quietly. "Because I love you, Jackie."


End file.
